


You Moan Gospels Around Her Fingers (Between Your Teeth)

by Iamasortofvillain



Category: The Haunting of Bly Manor (TV)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Canon Compliant, F/F, Idiots in Love, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Porn with Feelings, Public Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:01:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28033575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iamasortofvillain/pseuds/Iamasortofvillain
Summary: Five plus one.Five times Dani and Jamie could have slept together and one time they actually did
Relationships: Dani Clayton & Jamie, Dani Clayton/Jamie
Comments: 65
Kudos: 206





	1. You Say Your Prayer Between Her Thighs

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Ashe Vernon's perfectly splendid poem "PROFANE"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dani has a panic attack. Jamie is there to help.

Dani Clayton has absolutely no idea the effect she has on people, that much is very clear. She walks around the manor, rigid and slightly panicked and very tensed, thumb crushed inside the white-knuckled grip of her fist, a quivering smile that doesn't reach her eyes on her face and she looks like she's one misplaced word away from jumping out of her skin. It never fails to surprise you just how clear her voice is, when she talks to Miles, or when she calls for Flora's attention when she tells Hannah a story or says a clear, bright 'thank you' after Owen places a plate full of food in front of her.

Contrary to the panicked exterior, Dani's voice doesn't shake and doesn't flatter and doesn't fall. It's ringing, bouncing off of ancient walls, carries through the garden and you find that your carefully build control is slipping fast.

(What's better is that she has a strange way of saying things that stick, shocking people into thoughtful silence, making everybody around her check her twice, this beautiful blonde woman with electric blue eyes).

The first time you saw Dani Clayton, you were walking into the kitchen, face smeared with dirt, fingernails cooked with soil, a thick layer of mud covering your boots. You were feeling good, the week has been nearing its end and the house was in a constant state of turmoil the last couple of days. It was always either in a turmoil or in a dead flat calm, and on the whole, you preferred the turmoils. You could get away with doing less, staying more outside with your plants instead of fixing little problems in the cellar or in one of the bathrooms on the second floor. Hannah and Owen were in such a state, the gremlins skittering and screeching, that they didn't have time to peer over your shoulder and wonder out loud about your non-existing social life.

(You always feel a sense of participation in the turmoils themselves. It's always fun, though you do your best not to make Hannah's job harder by being childish, and you even make sure to stick around a couple of nights a week, when Flora's lower lip quivers too much at the dinner table or when Miles' eyes turn dark and his fingers search for Peter's match).

Ever since Henry's phone call, the surprise, and the anticipated engagement to welcome the new au pair has been turning the house upside down and you caught Owen more than once patting his forehead with paper towels and Hannah breathing hard while moping the floor. You offered your sympathies and your help, but they kept running around, busy and stern-looking and preoccupied.

Caged animals in a zoo.

So when you entered the kitchen that day, you were slightly hungry and very happy after a long morning spent in the garden and every thought of why everybody was on such an edge lately was a distant memory.

The day was warm and your muscles were pleasantly burning with hard labour, your shirt sticking to your sweaty back. You put some swagger into your step as you round the corner, ready to greet Owen, to flick at Miles' ears, smile at Hannah's lovely elegant face, when you noticed a foreign addition to the dinner table, blonde and gorgeous and clad in pink, and you almost lost your footing.

She straightened in her seat, huge blue eyes trained on you above two messy heads, and a sort of panic (a sort of hope) settled in the empty space below your ribs as you made your way to the kitchen sink.

You felt like you've accomplished something incredibly complicated when you finished washing your hands and finally found your voice.

You said, "So who decided it was a good idea to feed these wee gremlins?" and you let Flora's protests wash over you, chase away the strange irritating feeling like you misplaced your foot on your way down the stairs.

The next few days are a little tricky and Owen's knowing stares (and Hannah's kindly pushing eyes) are proving to be somewhat distracting from your task to ignore Dani Clayton. And it's not that you are trying terribly hard, because her easy manner and long-lashed gaze and happy jumping steps all seem to be a special kind of honey trap, designed just for you.

You think you're doing a fine job, poking fun at her while watching three pairs of well-meaning hands destroying your rose-garden, pretending she doesn't rise a storm of feelings inside you, up until the moment you watch her leap out of the front doors, chocking on her breath, sobbing and gasping and not even trying to fight the rapidly evolving panic attack.

All your resolutions are flung out of the window because this bright smiling creature, this brilliant, exotic blonde American, this woman with her inability to make a half-decent cup of tea, who got locket last night in a closet by two little monsters, is struggling, and you are too much of a fool to let her ride this one on her own.

So you put your tools down and approach her gently, trying not to scare her off.

"You alright?"

Dani gasps. She doesn't turn around, just wipes tears from under her eyes with trembling fingers and holds her breath. You shove your hands deep inside your pockets and try to think of something not entirely idiotic to say to this crying Marry Poppins.

"Kids," is what you go with and you mentally kick yourself. "Run you ragged".

From where you're standing you can't see her face, but you can tell she's trying to hold it together by the way the edges of her jaw tense. She swallows her gasps and chokes out a hiccuped, hysterical 'yeah!'

Your jaw clenches and you grind your teeth together at her sad answer. You have a sudden violent urge to strangle Miles and Flora for whatever it is that they've done to make their stubborn new au pair sprint across the house and hide behind a column, away from prying eyes and well-meaning inquiries.

"Well… people really. All of 'em," and your unintentional bitter remark produced a strangled 'mm-hmm' from Dani.

You push on because her breath is still coming in short strangled gasps and nothing about her is relaxing and your need to engage her in a conversation, short-answered and monosyllabic as it is, surprises you.

"That's why I prefer plants," you're not looking at her now, not looking at the clenching white-knuckled fists on the edge of the concrete column, not looking at the back of her blonde head or the way her tired body slumps a little backward. Instead, you try to picture what will make this sad woman giggle and you think about red wine and flowing dresses and locked doors and Dani looks so bloody lonely, existing under the thumb of a phantom boss and two strange kids and you just have to do something to coax her out of this half-hysterical state she's in.

"And I find if I don't like one," and you make the mistake of looking at her. "One looks at me kind of funny, I can always just… you know," and Dani turns her head in time for you to drag your thumb across your throat.

She sniffles and you drop your punch-line, hands flying as you speak, "So, if it's a child-rearing advice you're after, I'd just…"

She's laughing now, a gasping sort of laugh you've heard before and already learned to associate with her. it's a happy sound, a little wet and a little strange and very much her and she's no longer looking away, but straight at you, over her shoulder.

You smile. "Start there maybe…"

(And maybe you're not a total idiot because Dani is laughing and Dani is smiling and when she's sniffling again, very softly, it's to compose herself and you notice, with deep satisfaction, there are no new tears on her face).

"There we are." You say softly.

Dani's slouches against the small square column, resting the back of her knees against the cool concrete and you recognise the desire to say something, to explain, to answer, to break through the white cloth surface of your newly established closeness. You see Dani's shoulder tense and you wonder if just like you, she's trying to avoid the emotions she picked up.

You study her profile in the dim sunlight, the nose, and one eye, and the shadowed hunch of her shoulders. She seems more relaxed now and she's looking at you.

"S'not so bad right?" There's a pitiful hope in your raspy question, below the surface of level sarcasm and easy shrugs and Dani huffs, embarrassed and comforted, her head turned to the side, face hidden from you.

"Yeah."

You watch her collapsing into herself and it doesn't take a genius to figure out that maybe Dani Clayton has more secrets than she's willing to share, and it's a relief and a burden all at once because there is a building need in you to see her happy, and you have no idea where it comes from.

(You feel both uneasy and silly, watching her battle the remains of her anxiety and you're glad you're standing there, an irrational gladness, though Dani almost totally absorbed in her misery. Also, you're starting to develop a peculiar sensation in your hands. You want to reach across and touch her on the shoulder. The feeling seems to be independent of your own, so you make a tight fist to keep your hands to yourself).

"I cry three, maybe four times a day 'round here. Five, if I'm really being honest with myself," you rock back and forth on your heels as Dani turns her head to you, tentatively searching your face as if she's wondering whether you're making fun of her or not, her hunched shoulders losing their tense look.

"How else do you think I keep all these fucking plants watered? With my endless well of deep, inconsolable tears. That's how".

Dani has a small hopeful smile on her face, eyebrows raised slightly above wet blue eyes and you're still smiling, soft and lopsided and tender.

(You still want to touch her, a needy new sensation, and you battle with this newfound desire, planting your feet in the ground, commanding yourself not to move).

"It's what got me the job in the first place," you say with a shrug.

She's laughing and her laugh is so painful you can't keep joking anymore.

"Look, you're doing great," you tell her, and you say it again because something in her eyes tells you she doesn't quite believe it. "You're doing great".

Dani is a child who hopes and wants and believes, a woman who keeps dark secrets just below the surface, a strange magnificent creature who is present and unsure and you have fluttering wings in your stomach as you watch the small changes on her face.

"Thank you." She says softly and there is a warm heat that spreads through your body while her stare burns into your skin. You know this feeling and it's uncomfortable as it was the first time around – trembling and unbidden as it crawls its way into the refuse of your heart, and you swallow hard and push it down because you cannot have it, not while looking Dani in the eyes.

(You can't help but wonder if Dani's staring at the ground beneath her because it's easier than looking behind her shoulder, to what's waiting for her in your too-open stare).

"Anytime." You know your job is done here. There is nothing more you can do for Dani Clayton at the moment, so you hang to small victories and count your wins as they are.

Dani, you know, isn't the sort of woman you push and push and push, so you wipe your sweaty palms on your thighs and bend to collect your pails, tools clicking and clacking as you swing them slightly.

"Jamie?"

It's a small enough sound for you to pretend you didn't hear, but it has a desperate sort of quality to it. Not exactly pleading, but close enough to make your whole body shudder and

(You cannot ignore it).

"What is it?"

You watch the features on Dani's face twist into unbridled sadness and fear as she stands straighter and stalks over to you. She moves with intention, with a sort of shifting power, and when she reaches you she grabs you by the shoulders and dargs you aside, behind a sticking-out wall just to the side of the front double doors, into a dark space hidden by red bricks.

"Dani…?"

The grip on your shoulder is heavy, but not hard enough to bruise and you're not surprised because Dani doesn't seem like the violent type. Aside from the shock of her touching you like this, there is a rising tide in you of something completely inappropriate and the deep sadness in Dani's eyes is infinite.

It feels like a whiplash, after circling around her for days, the way she looks at you now, curious and stubborn and a little out of it, her palms burning holy at your shoulders.

(It's expansively frustrating to stand this close to her, gazing into her ultramarine eyes, those sad, extremely attractive eyes, with her hot palms pressed tightly to your arms, her lips slightly parted).

"Dani?"

Dani's hand clenches around a fistful of your shirt at your shoulder, and you are standing very still, determined not to move despite the overwhelming desire to grab the blonde woman and shake her. Or kiss her. Or peel her fingers and run away and pretend nothing had happened.

(Heat is pulling between your legs, spreading through your body).

Dani is staring heatedly at you, eyes flickering to your lips before she makes the decision and surges forward, stupid and jerking and fast. You have just enough time to say the first syllable of her name before she knocks her mouth to yours and it's absolutely lovely.

Dani's lips are soft and insistent and they feel good against your dry chapped ones. There's something about it, about the way Dani's brow crease in need and frustration, about the way her hand grabs at you, surprisingly gentle, and –

Dani jumps back when she realises your lips aren't moving. "Oh!" she gasps. "Oh, my god. Jamie, I – I didn't – "

You smile and lean in again, kissing her. It's graceless and messy and slow and Dani's hand, the one that isn't currently clutching at your shirt, flails about in a desperate wave. You kiss her, coaxing her lips against yours, moving toward something bigger, sliding against her, gripping her with desperately weak fingers.

(You kiss her).

You kiss her because kissing is easier than talking and Dani is sad and small and a little weird, but she's unbelievably warm against you, making small noises at the back of her throat, moving her mouth hungrily against yours, and you've spent the better part of your day wondering what it would feel like to have her pressed so close to you to give up on it just yet.

You know it must be a bad idea, considering you were perfectly happy to do little dances around each other, considering you're working together, considering you didn't ask before kissing her. But Dani is hot against your front and she was looking at you like you are something amazing and something stupid and something wonderful, like you're earth-shattering, in a way that makes your heart skip a beat, and she kissed you.

(She kissed you).

Your hands are on her blouse, pulling at the fabric with eager fingers before you realise what you're doing. You push it up and over her head, and Dani's hands are on your overall, sliding off the shirt you have draped over it for extra warmth, and you see no reason to back out now, not with the expanse of smooth pale skin lying out before you like a blank canvas waiting for paint.

There's a click and Dani has undone the latch on your overall and she pulls it down to your hips, urging your hands up so she can pull off your tank top over your head, baring your breasts and burying her hands in your hair.

You're surprised at her speed, at the way she moves so quickly. It's a slight shock the urgent movements of this sad gasping woman, must be some kind of reaction to her previous mood, but it certainly isn't hysteria because Dani, though sniffling and fighting for breath, seems thoroughly in control and you find yourself without the will to resist.

It's warm outside, and you're hidden in the shadows, behind a thick wall, curved just the right angle to make a tight privet space and Dani's mouth is pressed hotly to yours, a bit hollow and a bit trembling, and for the first time, you realise you're aware of her smell – sweet and flowery and very feminine.

Everything is moving fast, too fast, like in a movie, and you bury yourself in Dani with a sort of desperate urgency, with something like shooting pleasure, and Dani's arms are limp as she kisses you.

You slide your hand inside her pants, just as her naked torso presses up against your chest and you work your hand into the space between the fabric and pale pale stomach, fingers passing through a patch of soft hair until you can find the folds of Dani's sex and she's already so fucking wet a strike of utter glee shoots up your spine.

When your fingers connect with tender hot skin, swollen and sticky and burning, Dani goes a little weak-kneed, moaning in your ear. You slide two fingers across the slippery expanse of her skin, testing, giving her time to recline.

(It's the kind of control you need, having your hand shoved down her pants, and Dani clings to you for dear life, flexing her fingers in your hair. You move your fingers experimentally, and her head falls to your shoulder. She's whimpering as you touch her and for one, short blessed moment, you're in heaven).

Then Dani lets out a breathy sort of shriek and you break from her, pull away immediately, hands coming to her bare shoulders, holding her in place.

"Jamie, wait! Stop. Stop!" She shudders and you stare.

The complete panic on her face sobers you up and you're hit with what exactly you were just about to do.

"Dani, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. It's my fault, I should have asked – "

Dani's shaking her head and you keep apologizing, keep stumbling over words, until she leans forward and kisses you.

"Dani…"

She loops her arms around your waist and pulls you to her, spreading her legs and grinding on your thigh hard enough to produce a little gasp, but not enough to distract you because something is happening, and you're scared that if you keep going, you won't be able to figure it out.

(As much as you want to keep touching her, you need to make sure she's alright, first).

Dani is moving against you in a sort of haze, unaware of your confusion, of your sudden still hands, rocks with sharp, needy thrusts on your leg.

"Jamie," she gasps. "Just – "

"You alright?"

Dani ignores the question, choosing instead to pull you closer. You are filled with her scent, mango shampoo, and sweet perfume, and hot skin, sun-kissed, and clean.

"Dani, listen – "

"Don't ask me," she puts her forehead against yours and closes her eyes. You brush your noses together and she shudders, breathing heavily, her twitching hips making it hard for you to show tender worry. "Please don't ask me now. Just… just – "

"Tell me what to do".

"Just touch me." She says and it's the sort of pleading command you cannot resist.

You sink down on your knees before her. Unable to resist the urge to glance up, you catch Dani's gaze by mistake and freeze. Dani has her hands buried in your messy hair, clutching at you with desperate need, and her skin is glowing hot in the afternoon sun. She looks down at you with stormy eyes, without any trace of confusion, with pure frustration, and the feeling of being young and alive sweeps over you and you press forward.

You pull down Dani’s jeans and underwear in one go and neither of you miss how rough and low her voice sounds when she hisses your name, but your tongue makes one wide sweep across her labia before finding her clit and as you suck on it, Dani exhales and the moment is lost.

You bury your head between her thighs, hands moving to grab her thighs from behind and you pull her closer so you can bury yourself in her further.

Dani's skin is hot, holding the warmth of the unexpected hot summer-day, and you don't have time to think about any of it because you're on your knees in front of her, and burying yourself in Dani Clayton is quickly becoming a good activity – a safe activity that spares you the need to think at all.

You suck and lick with all the skill of someone who has spent their youth with the wrong kind of crowd, entangled with women far out of their depth, not willing to let go. There is no time for sweet kisses of soft caresses or small gestures. Dani's hands are on the back of your head and she's pushing you closer, encouraging you to continue, panting and moaning and crying quietly, shaky and pleading, bucking her hips with a sort of force you didn't think she possessed.

(You'd like to kiss her small gentle kisses, you'd like to explore the inside of her thighs, you'd like to have the freedom to move slowly and gleefully and press and release and take your time, to spend hours searching for the right kind of pressure. But Dani is writhing and moaning and whimpering your name, her accent twisting slightly the familiar sounds and you don't have time to do anything but double your efforts, swiping long slow strokes through her).

It’s over quickly; dirty, and messy as Dani chases her orgasm with bucking hips, with tightening muscles, fingers digging painfully into your scalp, lips forming a muffled cry of ecstasy against her fist. She comes apart under your tongue, thrusting violently, breath coming in shaky waves, one high, helpless word rolling off her tongue, and you press your fingers hard into her skin, holding her in place.

(As she slumps bonelessly against the cool brick wall, you imagine yourself from a third person's perspective; glistening wetness around your lips, disheveled hair around your head, naked unblemished skin, and the black, black eyes of a creature feeding.

You unravel your arms from Dani's waist, willing the red imprints of your fingers to fade, and you lick your lips clean of any evidence of her.

You stand up, a little unsteadily, and Dani is still a little blissed out as you coax her to lift her arms so she can put her pink blouse back on, helping her dress. You trace your fingertips down her sides, pressing your thumbs to her hipbones, where you've dug your nails not a minute ago, leaving angry marks.

Dani's skin is hot and delicate and she's watching you with a wild expression as you brush your hands gently on her head, fixing some loose hairs back to the braid that's restricting her beautiful mane, tucking a strand of gold behind her ear. she makes a small sound, a bit like a whimper, her hips still twitching as though out of control.

"There," you murmur to no one in particular.

"Jamie," Dani's cheeks are red, her ears are burning and there is a trace of fear and confusion on her achingly beautiful face. She says your name in a low, fervent whisper. "I... it's – "

"S'alright," you say tenderly, your fingers are still tangled in her hair, breathing soft and steady against her skin. You break contact as you move back to tug lightly on the hem of her pink blouse, leaving her rock lightly against empty air. "Here".

Your mouths come together once, twice, the third time Dani's slipping her tongue past your lips and you know she can taste herself at the back of your mouth because she makes a strangled, insisting noise.

"I should go," you murmur into her mouth and you feel Dani's smirk against you, breathing nervously, teasingly, into your moving lips. "Got some work to do".

"Yeah, okay," she whispers under her breath. "Okay," Dani's head thumps back against the wall, eyebrows knit together and she moves her lips but no sound is coming from her. "Okay," she says again, and her fingers are tracing patterns on the small of your back. Her eyes are closed, lost somewhere in thought.

(Take a step back, you think feverishly as Dani's breaths coming in sharp little pants, as the fabric of your underwear glides against your slick centre. Take a step back).

(Your heart racing in your chest).

"Right," you clear your throat and pull your overall up, fastening the buttons with shaking wet fingers, hyper-aware of the throbbing heat between your legs, of Dani's breathing heavily right in front of you. "Well, back to it then. Chin up, Poppins".

You hear her chuckle, an unbelieving kind of noise, as you step back. There's a fire burning low in your belly, fire you must ignore. You give her one last look and make your way back to the house.

Once you're inside, the bliss is gone and you are left with something close to shame. Your thighs are grinding together with every step you make and you can't quite shake the image of Dani coming on your tongue, gasping above you, pumping her hips into your mouth, watching you with dark blazing desire.

As you make your way to the kitchen, you wonder if you made a huge mistake.

(Sure, touching Dani is fun. It's hot and satisfying and pleasurable, but it's also dangerous and you think you've just complicated things to the point of no return. It's one thing wanting Dani Clayton from afar, of thinking and dreaming about her, tucked safely in your bed, no strand of blonde hair in sight. It's another thing altogether having her taste linger at the back of your tongue, knowing exactly how she moves and sounds and feels like coming in your mouth).

You close your eyes and take a deep breath. There is no point feeling bad about it now after it's all said and done, after you've got the soft wet sounds of skin on skin imprinted in your brain. No point at all.

You make a decision to finish preparing the crack above the stove, and then finding a nice empty bathroom, preferably one nobody uses too often, and take care of your pressing needs, quick and dirty and privet, away from Dani Clayton's huge blue eyes.


	2. You Fit Over Her Hips Like They Were Made For You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie is furious, clutching a cut rose. Dani has a gentle solution.

It hurts. It hurts. It hurts so much.

Your hands are trembling as you lower yourself to the ground, eyes darting across what looks like a battlefield. Like a scene of crime. Like a butchered land of cut roses. Everywhere, red sad flowers are scattered, dead and crushed and tattered and you can't believe you've just watched Dani and the kids plant new ones, just this morning, and you want to cry and scream and peel Miles' skin off of his bones.

You're unaware of anything but the roses on the ground, petals spread out in front of you, smashed and torn and in a state you can't quite translate and – 

(It hurts. It hurts. It hurts so much. Nobody cares about things that cannot scream and cannot cry and cannot resist, but you do and it hurts).

"Little shit…" you snarl, sparking anger coating your words.

Dani is there behind you, hand at her mouth, eyes squinted at the scene before her. You hiss, curse, your heart swelling with unbearable anger, and she says "Hey!" quietly but sternly, shooting you a sharp look you don't return. Dani's voice is a low grumble and your grip tightens on a rose you picked from the ground.

In face of the murdered roses, you don't have it in you to think about what you and Dani were doing a few hours ago, even if your body is tensing and heating at her closeness, even if your traitorous heart picks it's pace, your pulse rushing in a roar, wetness pulling between your thighs.

You're too angry and too heartbroken and too invested in bloody rage to think about anything but the roses and you fill the pregnant silence with a hissing laugh, humorless and dangerous and on the verge of murder.

The anger is a red wave, a raging fire and destruction at the back of your mind, and it's washing every rational thought you've ever had. You're smiling, baring your teeth like an animal because if you don't, you'll be haunting Miles down with everything you've got, a notion you think Dani wouldn't appreciate.

"Little fucking shit…"

"Hey, he's just a kid." Dani's voice is soft and pleading and you grit your teeth so hard a sharp pain shoots through your jaw.

You see red, bloody and dirty and crushed. You see dead flowers and a ground that had turned into a grave and Miles is just going to get away with it because he's a child and because his parents are dead and it isn't fair it isn't fair it isn't – 

"I'm gonna kill him," you chuckle, panicking rage you know too well rising with a bubbling laugh and you push yourself off the ground with a sort of deadly resolution. "I'm gonna kill him, I swear to god - "

"Hey, no!" Dani pulls you back by your arm. her hand is a familiar wight on your shoulder, too natural and easy. "They're just a few flowers".

Dani's eyes are dark and wet and so so blue and there isn't a trace of embarrassment on her face, just a stiff, strange, tight expression that instantly makes you wonder if you crossed any lines. But then she's talking and your red world turns black in the corners.

"A little boy cut a few flowers, what the big – "

"They weren't ready to be caught!" It's a sharp, spitting reply Dani doesn't deserve and you hate the pained look in her eyes, the way she almost flinches back.

You take a deep breath and try to calm yourself down, pull yourself back together. Dani is looking at you, searching your eyes and you try to locate the control that's slipped away in the face of the mess on the ground.

"Look," you say, embarrassment blooming through your anger. You sway a little on your feet. "I just have a way of doing things and I don't like people messing about with my garden…"

You wave your hand aimlessly, about to say something else when Dani shoves forward, grabbing your wrists with both of her hands and slamming her mouth against yours.

A surge of blinding electricity goes through you and you kiss her back. You kiss her because you're angry and confused and you don't know what else you're supposed to do, because her lips are a sort of a new form of control you cannot deny.

Her mouth moves against yours and you sway a little more, not entirely certain of what's going on.

You cry helplessly into her mouth and Dani's grip rubs against a part of your arms. You moan and Dani yanks back, a bit startled, wide-eyed and panting.

"You're right," she says softly, through gasping breaths. Gently, she takes your hand and traces her thumb against your skin, eyes tracing the path of her fingers. "You're right. I'll talk to him".

And it's too soft and too tender and too loving for all the anger that floods your body, so you grab her by the jacket and yank her to you. You are familiar with her top by now (you still remember how you pulled it off earlier today) so it takes you only a moment to discard her of it.

You're playing with fire. You know that. Because Dani could just turn away any moment now, put a stop to whatever it is you're doing for the second time today. But your angry tension is slipping away and a new kind of sensation settles in your lower stomach, fluttering and hot, like a shot of adrenaline, and this feverent desire is too much to ride out, too much to ignore, too much to suppress.

So you take a chance and you kiss her, you push off her shirt, you sink into her.

Dani doesn't stop you. on the contrary. She gulps in big breaths of air, giving you a smile that makes your head spin, and flexes her fingers in your hair. You focus your attention on pulling back one cup of her bra to latch your lips onto a bare nipple, and she wrenches her hand, pulling to the point of pain. You groan against her, nibbling lightly at her peaking nipple.

Somewhere above you, Dani tries to stop herself from making any noise, gripping your shoulder in one hand, your hair in the other, already thrusting her hips gently to meet you halfway, and you lick your way down her body as she moans quietly at every touch of you.

You circle your tongue, wrap it around her straining flesh of her nipple, sucking lightly. Your pulse is rushing in your ears and you try not to think about how you couldn't last twelve hours before the need to touch her overwhelmed you.

You bite down and watch the patches of red bloom on Dani's fair skin and you think they match a little the poor roses that surround you. Dani makes a noise, breathy, far too quiet, like she isn't sure if she can whimper just yet.

Your mouth works against her burning flesh, the sun is beating on your arched back, warm and soothing. Dani rocks, restless, and your head is spinning, mouth full of her, nose buried in her skin, your world is an intoxicating storm, a raging ocean of Dani Dani Dani.

Dani's jeans are easy, laughably easy, and you don't want to leave her naked in the open air, so you just shove them down as far as you can over her hips, until you can shove your hand between her legs. You find a slickness gathering there, meeting your fingers, sticky and hot.

Dani presses you close to her, legs spreading lightly to give you more space. Your world is spinning and folding and dancing around you. Dani is solid and hot under your palms, smooth and gentle, a distant laugh.

(Poppins, you think with nothing of your previous red rage, with something like smugness and everything like lust. Already do wet. Already so eager).

You're not taking your time. Something is still broken in you and you need time to have it fixed, but you also can't abandon Dani and what she's granting you so willingly.

"This alright?" You lift your head and whisper into her collarbone because your urge and her wetness are not enough of a consent and you need her to say it out loud. You need her to be okay with this.

Dani's eyes are closed, squeezed tight, and she nods her head feverishly. Electricity pulses through you when you look at her and she jolts in your arms. You grin into her skin.

"Yes. Yes. God, yes. Jamie…" She's panting, breathing heavy, and when you kiss her just below the jaw, her eyes fly open and she stares down at you, wide-eyed and bold and almost sobbing with relief.

"Like this?" You ask politely and you drag your index finger along the inside of Dani's folds until you can find her clit. When you do, you press down with your thumb, rubbing for but a moment before you shove two fingers in without warning and Dani throws her head back, letting loose a low guttural sound, her hips rock to meet your every stroke.

Dani's hand is still rooted in your hair as you suck and nib lightly on her throat. She's arching, pressing into you, grasping your shoulder and pulling you closer, your tongue tracing patterns against her burning flesh. Your previous anger is still there, running hot under your skin, twisted and desperate and tiring and you lock your knees as you latch harder into Dani.

You don't catch the way Dani's eyes darken or how her face lightens or how she stops breathing for a moment because you're too busy groaning a low sound of pure desire into her skin.

"Like this?" You pump your hand, pressing your palm to her clit, kissing her earlobe.

"Jamie…" Dani sighs and you slide your thumb through her sex, sinking into her, curling your fingers just so, producing a broken little whimper from her parted lips.

Your keep moving your hand and Dani digs her nails into your scalp, into your shoulder, parting her lips as you rub the swollen bundle of nerves between her legs, slow and hard and deliberate. You make a sound of your own, muffled against her neck as she grinds harder into your palm.

You suck, nib, bite, then soothe the tender skin with your tongue, and Dani jerks and bucks, twitching violently in your arms, begging, making small whimpering noises that shoot right into your core.

It only takes a couple of short minutes of you curling and pushing your fingers against her, rubbing your thumb along the swollen lines of her clit, before you feel her clench and spasm and Dani's orgasm rolls it's way through her body like a riptide, dragging her under.

There's a broken groan from Dani when she loses it on your fingers and she clamps, a hand over her mouth, the other grasping any part of you she can reach. There's a sharp twist and a flooding heat between your own legs, a particularly sharp pulse as she comes, soaking your fingers, and you welcome it with a smile, riding her orgasm with her.

You feel eighteen and sad and stupid. You feel reckless. You feel exhilarated and in this moment, with Dani crying lowly into the aftershocks of you being together for the second time today, it rolls over you just what exactly is going on.

You barely know her. She barely knows you, and if you learned anything about her in the few short days you've known her, is that Dani Clayton is not the kind of person who would do something like this with a girl she had just met. But the bliss is coating your vision and it's all over far too soon, your hand's still moving between her legs, her hips still meeting every thrust of your fingers, taking every last drop of pleasure your hand has to offer, and it feels a lot like a beginning and a whole hell of a lot like an end (though you're not sure what exactly is beginning and what is ending here), and then Dani's muscles stop moving and you withdraw.

Dani's chest moves up and down, halting, tired breaths that you can feel through your own body as you stand pressed close to her. Her eyes are lidded, her body's limp and she is still trembling a little, hips pumping lightly at nothing.

For a second you think she might try and get you off too, hands moving to your waist, but Dani isn't trying to touch you like that. Her thumbs dip into the curve of your hip. She holds you, gentle and soft in ways you could never have imagined possible, and you resist the growing need to watch her come again, over and over until she can't keep her volume down, until she's exhausted and boneless and utterly spent.

"Jamie… that's – "

And suddenly, you are afraid of what she's about to say into the space between you so you immediately move away from her body, look her straight in the eye, searching for any type of regret or repulse or anger. There is none, just a trace of smile, a particular look, a muscle jumping in a tensed jaw.

"Look," you mutter, a little something like fear and a lot of something like hope in your voice and you wish Dani wasn't as observant as she is. "Can we just go back to the bit where you're acting mentally and I had to talk you down?"

And whatever Dani was about to say, breathless and panicked and searching for an escape (or dangerously blissed out) is long gone and forgotten and she heaves a breath, lets out a hiccuped laugh and you can't help but smile back at her.

She doesn't look like she's about to take off. Instead, she looks at you open and wet and silent. reaches for you and your pulse jumps, triumphant and scared out of your mind. You make a high, surprised, wanting sound when she steps closer and kisses you on your mouth. Then she withdraws, as fast as she closed the distance, and you ache for her to touch you.

(Then a scarier thought crosses your mind – you want to touch her again, and something in you shudders).

This, you think on your way back to the house, is proving to be a problem.


	3. She Blushes The Colour Of Your Filthy Tongue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter Quint is somewhere out there is the dark. The house is asleep. Dani and Jamie need each other for a much different reason.

The wind is strong and cold, blowing against your truck, and lightning is moving closer by the minute as you make your way back to the house, Hannah's voice over the phone still ringing in your ears, soft and chocolaty and urgent, Peter Quint's name running a cold dread down your spine; an angry sort of reaction.

When you reach the manor, a few heavy preliminary drops already coming down, and when you meet Dani, armed with a poker and hands clenched into fists, thumbs crushed into small fingers, the storm is almost overhead.

You don't kiss her when you meet in the garden, mainly due to the reason there aren't many tender feelings left in you after stumbling upon her in the dark, screaming yourself hoars with surprise and something like fear.

You'd gladly kiss her, you realise, if you weren't too busy scaring the living shit out of each other, the light from her torch leaving sharp jabbing dots in your eyes, and you don't have it in you to lean forward, throat still a little sore from the involuntary scream.

"Jesus!" she yelp, colour rising high in her cheeks and an electric current runs straight through your heart.

You want to drop your shotgun and pull her into your arms, the overpowering sense of need and want and something deeper, something darker, make it almost impossible for you to keep your foot one in front of the other. You want to smooth her hair and to bump your forehead against Dani's, something you've been thinking about for longer than you care to admit, but Dani's eyes are dark and hard and angry in the faint light of her torch, no doubt on behalf of Peter fucking Quint scaring Miles earlier this evening, so you stay close and polite, clad in iron confidence that doesn't feel quite right, and you make sure to do a thorough sweep through Bly's grounds before heading back to the house.

You close the doors behind you and it's pouring outside. The rain hit the windows, blown against the house's walls. Dani grits her teeth together as you move through the house, to the kitchen, where Owen had prepared hot chocolate and fresh-baked cookies and where Miles and Flora bouncing in their sits, looking anything but scared.

Hannah lifts her head, elegant and bald, eyes the colour of ink. "Anything?" she asks in her silvery voice.

Outside the world is swimming in cold rain and you recognise in yourself the desire to say something to Dani, to stay close, to intrude and break through the white cloth surface of her silence. To avoid the emotion, you through yourself in a stiff wooden chair and steal a cookie from Owen's personal stack.

"No sign of parapet Pete." Dani drawls and Owen makes a grumbling sound, content, and disapproving all at once, hands twisting in his front pockets.

Hannah's lips twist in a disgusted expression. "My skin's crawling thinking he might be out there".

Owen's ready to chase her comment with reassuring stability, eyes trained on Hannah, mustache twisting with hidden anxiety. "What do you say we stay here tonight? Just in case?" and it erupts a very excited response from both Miles and Flora, who are no doubt riding a mad sugar high.

Dani is trembling with a combination of fright, cold, and fury as Hannah leads everybody to the side parlour, gentle and strong, a hovering stern arch-mother of a frightened flock. She arranges a soft place for the kids to lay down, right in front of the fireplace and soon enough two matching soft snores erupt from tiny noses.

You look at them, falling asleep quick and sudden as kids do, then flop yourself down on an empty sofa and sip on your spiked tea.

Four scared adults sit in silence, listening to the storm and the flapping sound of the flames.

The obvious display of Peter Quint's muscles irritates you. Fucking bastard coming back, ruining other people's lives after taking Rebecca's, after fleeing with half of Henry's fortune, after scheming and lying and cheating, straight-faced, through that stupid smile on his lips.

The storm must be right overhead, the lightning dazzling and continuous, each probing jagging fork is followed almost at once by a rending crash, like the trees of a whole forest splitting and falling.

In the intervals of Darkness, Owen offers a word, which is chewed upon (by you mostly), and the rain keeps pounding against the windows, water coming through in a fine spray around the edges of the cold glass.

"They look like Bonnie and Clyde," Dani's soft whispered drawl hammers you back to reality.

"Yeah, if Clyde fucked Bonnie over".

Dani has a square photo in her hand, and she doesn't look away from it. Peter and Rebecca are looking very pretty, soft skins alight by something that looks like candles, frozen in time.

"So, what? He's stalking a dead woman?" there is a desperation to Dani's voice, a sort of need like she doesn't want to believe in a world where people who love each other are capable of such despicable things. "Risking prison for someone he didn't even bother to bring along?" and there's a hardness to her voice, an underlying anger you understand.

"That doesn't make sense." She insists as if trying to convince you.

You take a deep breath. You're not looking at her, instead you look at the dead woman in the polaroid photo, holding close a huge manly arm draped over her front.

"The wrong kind of love can fuck you up," you say and Dani is watching you with big eyes and pressed mouth and a somber expression (something like a sorrow, something like heartbreak). "Follow ya. Make you do some really stupid shit." You sigh heavily because memories flooding you and you don't want to be sitting next to Dani and think about all your shortcomings and the things you've done wrong.

(So wrong it landed you in jail. It's a painful memory, dark and unplanned and hateful. You remember too vividly how it took you the better half of two and a half years to realise just how foolish you've been. How dangerously foolish).

Next to you, Dani is soft and loving and good and it's very hard to sit next here by her side, wrapped in familiar warmth, in lingering desire, to feel the heat radiated from her body, and not to be able to touch her.

During a long flickering moment of light you turn and see Dani watching you, her face strangely shadowed, her eyes gleaming like an animal's in the beam from the fireplace. Her stare is intent, faintly omnious, but so soft and crushing it's hard to keep looking at her.

You suddenly feel limp as a damp cloth. Your skin is warm and a cold dread shoots through your veins. You close your eyes and take a shuddering breath. Dani smells like flowery shampoo and hot chocolate and cognac she barely touched. She smells like herbal tea and crayons and rain. It's a good smell and it's embarrassing just how much you really want to kiss her.

Dani's body is shuddering, her mouth twitching at the edges.

"People do, don't they?" she says in a hushed whisper. "Mix up love and possession?"

"Yeah," you say as you stare deep into her eyes. "They do".

"I don't think that should be possible," and there it is again, this hopeful girl, this blonde paradigm, this spray of pure goodness wrapped in too bright of a smile, too deep of a stare. "I mean, they are opposites, really. Love and ownership".

And something is tightening in your chest. There is a certain quality to the air, lingering and grieving and new; a sort of shakey trepidation, a very specific expectation.

A tremendous electric blue flash, very near, illuminates the room and you stretch toward each other. You can see yourself, small and oval, mirrored in Dani's blue eyes and you don't know what exactly you're planning on doing when Hannah clears her throat from across the room and the two of you jump back like you've been caught doing something you shouldn't be doing.

"They really ought to be in bed".

"Oh, Yes!" Dani's voice is too clear, ringing with fake ease. "Yes, yes".

The spell is broken, Dani springs to her feet, discarding of the blanket she has nestled herself into, and you follow suit, languid and sluggish and throbbing with desire.

"I'll take her," you need to have your hands busy so that you don't embarrass yourself further. You pick Flora off the floor. She's small and warm like a kitten and she steers when you lift her, murmuring happily into your shoulder.

It's fairly easy to tuck the kids in. Dani kisses Mile's hair and he gives her a genuine smile, sad and worried and very tired. Flora is already back asleep when you reach the top of the stairs, so Dani just makes sure she's warm and comfortable before closing the door behind her.

You stay in the corridor, back pressed to the wall, one foot planted in the ground, the other bent at the knee, and you watch Hannah and Dani retreat from the kids' joined rooms.

"I left you a clean blanket on the sofa," Hannah says and squeezes your upper arm. "I'm going to make sure Owen hasn't fallen back asleep in the armchair." And she smiles at you, warm and motherly and familiar and you nod and watch her descend the stairs.

Dani is smiling a small careful smile. She is standing a little to the side and she doesn't take her eyes off of you.

"I should go," you say, mainly because her stare's proving to be a test to your self-control. "You should get some sleep as well, Poppins. T'was a rough night".

And it's nothing new and nothing scary and everything exciting when Dani moves forward instead of backward and she kisses you with a crushing force.

You've been waiting to do this for the past couple of days, since your last encounter in the rose garden, and you're almost going down under the wave of relief and happiness, struggling to slow down.

There is a sort of high in the air, Dani's lips never quite leaving yours as she guides you back to her room, struggling slowly not to trip or bump into anything. You don't look where you're going. Instead, you kiss her and you welcome her kisses with a gentle smile as your lips come together over and over.

Once inside her room, Dani makes a quick work of your overall, buttons separating quickly from their loops, and she slips her hands around you, pushing your shirt to both palm your breasts and rub her thumbs over your peaking nipples. You moan at the feeling of her hands on you, bold and searching and steady. You arch your back, searching for more contact, making a strangled noise at the back of your throat, and Dani revels in the sound before reluctantly separating to lean down to undo the rest of your clothes.

You want to touch her but she's laying distracting open-mouthed kisses along the back of your neck, circling around you, orbiting close, her lips sending tremors down your spine. She lavishes at your skin, any bare spot she can reach, and you don't have it in you to protest.

Dani is different tonight, in some small incredible way. Something about her had unlatched earlier this evening, and she stands closer and touches bolder and smiles wider, with everything that's going on. Your eyes roam her face in the faint lamplight, lit with mixed emotions and human embarrassment and pure, hungry lust.

Your hands snake below the back waistband of her pants and Dani is free. You pick her up, breathless and as gentle as you can muster, half drunk and pulsing with want, and put her softly on her bed, careful not to injure her. Dani is staring up at you breathlessly, head resting on her pillow, eyes wide, pupils blown out. You freeze in this position, staring at each other, reflect on what is going to happen (again) before it actually does.

"Poppins, this okay?"

Dani leans up on her elbows, kissing the lobe of your ear, tracing the edge with her mouth. Close, you think. Close, close, closer. Then you're kissing again, her mouth stings a little with alcoholic trace and you are shuddering.

You let your hands dive back down and you already know what you're going to find, the heat and the wetness of Dani Clayton and you can't wait to have her coming undone beneath you. Dani's the first you wanted to kiss this much in years and it hurts to think about anything else right now.

So you don't.

Here. Now. Nothing more.

You have her in the safety of your arms and you're drawing her closer, but her trousers and underwear are gone and her soft curls are laying under your leg and you're having trouble being soft or slow or particularly gentle.

You push yourself down, kissing over her breasts and stomach until your tongue circling her clit and your fingers teasing her entrance and Dani is so fucking distracting when she's moaning so softly beneath you, leaving dark wet streaks on her sheets.

"Tell me if you want me to stop." You whisper and among the unintelligible noises Dani is making one must be something to do with 'no' and another with 'Jamie' and another with 'please' and 'don't stop' and 'yes' and 'oh, god ohgodohgod' and really, how can you deny her?

You raise your head, lips wet with Dani's lust, and Dani is staring at you, a small whimper ripples through her and she reflexively slaps her hand over her mouth.

You grin up at her. Dani is so pretty like this, naked and arching off the bed, fair and blonde and with glossy eyes the colour of a summer sky, waiting for you to go on. She's beautiful. Magnificent. She's everything you ever hoped for and you do your best to keep it light, not to let your swelling heart get in the middle.

"Poppins," you say, serious and with your eyebrows knitted together and Dani's face smooths and then crumbles with worry and it's mean to tease her but you must.

"Tell me to stop".

Her face clears and she beams at you. "No." She answers, small and breathless and sure.

"No," you say as you start to pepper small kisses around the inside of her thigh. "No," you drag your lips over her clit, trace your tongue over her. "No".

And in some perfect timeline, in another world, you'd ease into her, you'd kiss her and suck in on her lips and swallow her moans. You'd squeeze her breasts and tease her for hours and push her slowly and deliberately over the edge.

Right here, right now, you're too wild of a thing to do all that, and Dani is writhing and wiggling and squirming in the most exciting way. She gasps and you suck a bruise into her inner thigh.

You slide your fingers between her legs and into her and Dani tosses her head back in pleasure, moaning quietly. You press your mouth to her and she's so wet and she feels so good you almost come on the spot.

There is a sort of animalistic hunger deep inside you when you fuck Dani against the mattress, your world is a swimming pictures of naked skin and blonde strands of hair. Your fingers hit a particular spot and Dani follows it with a desperate moan of 'please'.

Dani's hands move from where they're gripping onto the mattress to tangle in your hair, keeping you pressed tightly against her as she moans shamelessly, quietly, into the air.

"Oh my god…" Dani mutters. "Oh my god…"

Your hand drops from her breasts to wrap tightly around her waist, holding her in place, when you feel her body going stiff. Then, her muscles clench and spasm, and an intensely powerful shudder goes through her, wrecking its way through her body as she comes, her spine bending up and a wordless drawn-out moan erupts the relative silence of her bedroom.

Dani collapses back to the bed and lies boneless against the mattress.

You frown at her from between her legs.

"Poppins, is that all you've got?" you smile and she's already drifting off a little as you kiss your way back to her mouth, placing soft pecks against her ribs and collarbone and jaw until you reach her lips.

"I – " is Dani's confused response and she's shaking with exhaustion and laughter beneath you, breathless and blissed out.

"Hmm?" You move experimentally against her, rubbing yourself on her leg and you feel her heat growing in her again.

"Can go again," you suggest and a meowing sound leaves her lips.

"Can make you come over and over and over until you see stars." You whisper against her ear, moving down to kiss her again and Dani's breath catches in her chest.

"I think I already have." She whispers and you think you might pass out.

There is a cheeky smile on her face, wide and open and happy and you smile and roll your eyes because she has no business being this cute.

"Jamie?"

"Hmm?"

"Let me touch you," she says, voice lower and rougher than normal and you resist the urge to drag her into a hungry kiss. "Please." And it's the soft pleading whisper you cannot refuse, overwhelming happiness flooding your body.

You nod, once, a little shakily, your arousal is leaking against Dani's thigh. It's hard to deny her when she looks at you like that. She frees one arm and moves it down. When she reaches your lower abdomen, you grab her wrist, softly.

"We don't have to," Dani says soberly, no trace of bliss on her face now, eyes dark and shining and steady. "Jamie. It's okay".

You bury your face in her neck, lips pressing against her stuttering pulse point and Dani's hand sneaks into your hair, at the base of your head. Her fingers are firm but her tugs are gentle and you go limp in her arms.

"Not yet," you say. "Not yet," and you don't know how to explain that the last person to touch you was also the last person to break your heart, to rob you of your life, to grant you a pass into a cell you're not ready to think about.

(It's the same person to lead you into a small flat above a pub and a decent job and an employer who doesn't give two shits about your past as long as you keep his grounds in order, his house intact).

"Okay," Dani tangles her fingers in your hair and strokes your back with her other one. You rest your head on her chest, her hammering heart a healing lullaby in your burning ears. "It's okay".

It ends abruptly and you know you need to leave, to go to the cold sofa in the side parlour, where Hannah left you a blanket, where you're expected to be, asleep and alone. But Dani's body is warm and soft and you're tired, buried in the space between her collarbones and you think you can make it downstairs later, it won't matter much.

You try not to think this is your third time sleeping with Dani. You try not to think at all.


	4. She Fucks Like A Seraphim And There's No Part Of Scripture That Ever Prepared You For Her Hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie stops by the house on her way to the funeral.

When you wake up in the morning, it's closer to the afternoon and your mind is empty at first, as though someone scooped out the inside of your skull. You look around the small room, scarcely recognising it as a place you've seen before. Your clothes are scattered all over the floor and draped and crumpled on the bed like fragments left over from the explosion of some life-sized scarecrow, and the inside of your mouth feels like a piece of cotton wool stuffing.

Only when you get up you remember the night before, Owen's tears and too many drinks down at the pub, laughing and sobbing and remembering. You remember your sudden week off, and the dreadful ghost of a funeral. Then you think about the past week, all the way back to the phone call from Owen's neighbour. You think about the quivering, apologising voice, about Owen's horrible look and Dani's thumb grazing lightly over your palm.

"I'm so glad you stayed," she had said and you smiled your crooked smile and left her standing there by the front door. You haven't heard from her for the last four days. Even when you rang the house, arranging with Hannah small details, you couldn't think of a good excuse to ask for Dani on the phone, so you didn't.

Clear sunshine and fresh air are shimmering in through the open window and you rummage through your closet for the only dress you own. It's tight and black and short-sleeved so you put on a jacket and heels and you feel like a total clown even before you start combing your hair.

You promised Hannah to stop by and pick them all up before four o'clock, so you take a deep breath and back out of your spot, your hands and legs moving on autopilot, pressing the exhilarator lightly, squeezing the breaks, everything too familiar but somehow wrong, your head filled with distracting images of Dani.

The drive is quiet and a bit confused, and you don't phone first to announce you're on your way. It's everybody's day off, but it's not the free sort of day, so you park your truck where you usually do, squeeze Hannah's shoulder sympathetically when she meets you at the door and search for Owen out of habit, even though you know he must be busy with the funeral in town.

"Why don't you go and see if miss Clayton is ready?" Hannah nudges you softly, quivering smile on her beautiful, sad face.

"Aren't you coming with?" you knit your brows together. Hannah has a distracted look on her face, a little distant and ashen, her eyes a thousand miles away.

"Oh, no. No, darling. Funerals are not for me".

You smile a tight smile at her, not saying anything, and make your way up to Dani's room. The kids are nowhere to be found, and you are a little thankful for the promise of no distractions.

"You decent?" you call as you knock on the door.

Inside, Dani is smiling a pleased though nervous grin, and she makes a surprised noise, like a happy gasp, when you step inside her room.

"Oh! You look…!"

"I can scrub up when I need to." You take a long moment to compose yourself, closing the door behind you, trying very hard not to think back to the last time you've stepped inside her room.

It's different in the cold sun, bathing in rays of shine than you remember it. Bigger, and somehow colder.

Dani's dress is very pretty and nothing like a thing suitable for a small-town funeral and she looks lost and sad and small, dolled up with her hair fluffed around her, falling to her shoulders in soft golden waves, her eyes shadowed by memories you feel will be too personal to inquire after.

You try to be tender but you feel stiff and bright and somehow expansive and your jokes are falling short because Dani is talking very fast about another funeral, far away in time and space, and you have a feeling this girl needs a break.

"Hey, Poppins. S'alright. I promise. I don't need you to be my date to Owen's mum's funeral".

A set of very blue eyes stare at you through a sheet of unspilled tears. You are filled with nervous energy and restlessness. Standing so close to Dani, your arms circled around her waist, feels too intimate like you're doing something wrong like it isn't quite what she wants and you hate yourself a little for doing this.

Even though the early afternoon holds that special quality of a mournful emptiness, you are burning with desire.

"Really?" Dani's voice is small and there's a broken hope in her. She doesn't move, doesn't step away, just raises her sapphire eyes and searches your face, hands twitching at her sides.

"Said as much. Was pretty clear".

Dani hangs her head low, breaths relief. You can't help but wonder what makes this sad-eyed woman, this wonderful, warm creature, to be filled with such corruptious anxiety at the mention of a funeral.

You say, very quietly, only once, "Poppins?" and when Dani lifts her head again there is a new kind of light in her eyes. She's still on the verge of tears, but she is no longer wearing the tired look that breaks your heart. Instead, she's sucking her top lip into her mouth, eyes dilated as they dart down to stare at your mouth.

You're about to say something, call her again maybe, when she surges forward and kisses you. You stumble a step back from the sheer force of the impact, forcing your lips apart.

Dani isn't having that. Her eyes shine and she's wearing a determined look on her face, like a woman on a mission. She puts her hands on your shoulders and studies your face, searching for something that isn't there.

"We don't have to," you tell her weakly. "S'not what I'm here for." You try to pour as much tenderness as you can muster into your words.

"Yeah… I – ah," Dani brushes hair from her eyes. "I think I, erm… I think I need, if – "

She doesn't get to finish her struggling sentence because you cut her off. You're not cruel, not by a long shot, and having Dani in front of you, in a short black dress and this lost look in her eyes, it's not something you can handle.

It's not a kiss she's after and you're more than happy to oblige. You push the hem of her dress up, move her underwear to the side, and quickly curve a finger into her.

"Oh-hh!"

You smile haughtily at her, pleased at the noise, and Dani leans forward to kiss your smug smile off your face, kicking her heels and almost crawling into your arms.

You don't talk. Your movements are frantic as they always are, but there is more to it, now. There is more in the curve of Dani's lips as you bump noses and foreheads, as you miss kisses and end up kissing her cheek or her earlobe, Dani's hands dragging teasingly across your stomach and chest, clawing at your jacket.

It's intimate and close and more. You missed this, missed Dani and the easy conversations between kisses and fingers, as she lets out a small huff, a small chuckle, as she says your name in an aching kind of way. By the way, she leaves enthusiastic kisses on every inch of available skin, it's safe to say she missed you too.

There's a drag of lips over your neck, right over your pulse point, and you inhale deeply, air freezing in your throat. Dani's teeth nip lightly and then her tongue soothes the red skin. Dani is looking up at you, softly, questioning, and you still for a moment and look at her, this strange American woman, her eyes wide and bright blue, breathing heavy, smiling her big dopey smile. Something comes alive in your stomach as you realise you're falling into softer, deeper grounds, as you falling for her.

Dani kisses you and you smile into the kiss.

"I think we need to talk," Dani whispers into your mouth and you draw back, trying to concentrate on those words because you did talk. In the short span of time she's been to Bly, you did. She told you about her dead fiance and her hovering mother and how much she misses her four graders, who by now have advanced into their fifth year of elementary school. You told her about prison and your flat above the pub and how plants are the only things that make sense in this big dark possessive world.

"Alright." You say and press your lips together, hard, the utter devastation in Dani's tone breaking your heart all over again. You know she means more than she's willing to say, and you're too much of a fool for her to let the fact that you have a finger buried in her interrupt whatever it is she needs of you right now.

Then Dani's eyes brighten again and she squeezes her muscles around you and pulls you into a heated kiss.

"Not right now," she says.

She's dropping tiny butterfly kisses on the underside of your jaw, hands tangling in your hair, the pins you put so carefully in your messy curls coming apart, and you move your hand again, the one that's still between Dani's legs, and slip another finger in.

"Alright," you say.

You rub slowly at her, causing her whole body to shudder. Dani has her hand in your hair, the other drops to your shoulder and she digs her fingers hard enough to leave a mark on your skin through layers of warm material. She grips into you tightly, biting her bottom lip, and in the dim sunlight, Dani's eyes dilating until there is only a thin circle of blue around full-blown pupils.

"Jamie," she hisses quietly under her breath, right into your ear. You're locked in a hug, like two tired wrestlers and you graze your thumb against her clit just the right way.

"Right here, Poppins".

"Oh god, please!" she gasps.

She's flushed and panting and you're a little concerned you're going to break your jaw with the force of gritting your teeth together so you don't start moaning her name in return.

Dani shuts her eyes, squeezes you tight, her body tensed, and then shudders as she comes with a tiny gasp that can't be prevented.

"Oh." Dani breaths and twists in your arms, arching up, clawing at your back. You move your hand and she's coming undone, unexpectedly, far too soon and she presses her forehead to your shoulder.

Before she can come down from the wave of pleasure, you drop down on your knees and push her dress up, baring her hips. You angle your head a little, tongue and fingers working Dani's sensitive clit, flicking against her, pushing her over the edge one more time and Dani lets loose a silent scream into the room, legs bucking and back arching as she pushes herself further on to your tongue, your arms around her are the only thing keeping her upright.

Warm stickiness coats your chin and fingers and you lick your hand clean of Dani, wipe your lips on the back of your hand. Dani is trembling as you scramble to your feet and bury your nose in the crook of her neck, laying a tentative kiss on her rushing pulse point.

"Can you help me get this thing off?" Dani whispers, still unsteady, and you can't stop the bubbling laugh that rips through your chest.

"Had to think about it before, then, didn't we?"

She smacks your arm playfully, a difficult thing to do since you're still pressed together.

"Seriously," she chuckles. "The zipper".

You reach behind her and pull gently the zipper down. Dani's hand comes up, tugging at you, pulling your head closer. She smells like sex and sweet perfume and the distinguished smell that is Dani, crayons and sunny sheets and grass, a smell that reminds you of a care-free holiday.

Dani latches onto your skin, just below your ear, sucking gently, your resulting moan echoing in the room. She chuckles, proud of herself, and you groan quietly. Then she's gasping something frantic into your neck, her hands groap shamelessly at your chest over your dress and you shove against her.

"Owen asked me to get there early," you try and say and Dani is everywhere at once, invading your personal space with a sweet kiss, then it turns heated and she's pawing at your chest, grinding your hips together. She grabs the lapels of your jacket to pull you closer if that's even possible, and all of your senses are filled with her.

Kissing Dani is like eating the stars, burning hot and fast in your mouth and when she moves away, just a little, to suck in a much-needed breath, her taste cools off on your tongue and lingers.

"Alright," you whisper into her as she kisses your chin and neck and you're sure Hannah must know by now what's going on up here. "I'll be back in a few hours".

Dani's eyes are round and her mouth is tensed but it's nothing like the lost look she had on her face when you entered the room, not ten minutes ago.

"Okay," she says in a whisper.

"Try and get some rest?" You're trying to focus on anything but her, a task that's proving to be impossible. Dani is pushing lightly against you, her grip still solid on your jacket. You stagger back until your back is against the door, Dani's front pressed to yours.

She laughs her good laugh. "I don't think it will be possible".

Dani's nails scratch lightly at the base of your scalp.

"Well… I'll make sure to tell Hannah to keep an eye on you, and if I'll find out you've not been relaxing…" Dani's eyebrows shoot up and she does a poor job of containing her smile. "There will be serious consequences".

You're both laughing now and Dani shoves at you playfully, just slightly, because any pressure is a dangerous one at the moment, with you pinned to the door.

"Okay," she says, her voice a ragged whisper, and you press a heated kiss to her lips.

You don't miss the adoring way Dani watches you leave, hair disheveled and dress messy, half up to her waist, one sleeve falling off to reveal a pale shoulder.

Dani is indescribable. She's like a great burst of colour in a monochromatic scene. The temperature in the room seems to rise whenever she's in there with you and there's a fire blooming underneath the surface, boiling above your skin, as she smiles and keeps her eyes stubbornly on you.


	5. You Confess How Long You Looked For  A Place To Worship And You Put Her On Her knees

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dani makes progress. Jamie makes progress.

Dani bites her nails. It's not extreme, but every once in a while her fingers will find their way near the edges of her teeth and she will pull on her skin until small capillaries will break and red will stain pale pale skin and you wonder what's going on inside her beautiful head to make her bite so hard.

Dani's hands clench and unclench, her thumb crushed inside her fist and when she raises her hand to her mouth and chews on her thumb, it's easy to say she's on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

Dani has nice hands. They're small and soft and patient, her fingers twitch but they're firm, and they flail around like she's waiting for someone to pay attention to how beautiful her hands are.

You notice, and you can't stop staring.

Dani has a small bandaid wrapped around her thumb now, after a particularly vicious attack on the edge of her nail. You've seen it happen. A line of blood has welled up on her thumb and Dani swiped her tongue across the injured skin. She tried to act as if nothing had happened, as if it doesn't sting, focusing her attention on Flora.

"C'mere," you told her and pulled her from her chair, ignoring Owen's creased brow and Hannah's content smile, ignoring the curious looks from Miles and Flora as well. You took her to the bathroom, where you cleaned her hand in cold water, treating her injured skin with gentle fingers. Dani gazed at you, as if in a haze, and attacked another nail a moment later.

"Poppins," you told her as you slipped her hand from her mouth and pressed a soft kiss to her knuckles. You snatched her hand and covered her cold skin with hot hands and you looked her deep in the eyes. "Stop".

"Sorry," she breathed, a tensed laugh on her lips and you held her hand gently, kissed the corner of her mouth.

"Sorry for what?" you asked, sincere and enquiring. Dani seems to be wired to apologise and she doesn't even know what she's apologising for.

"I – "

"Just don't want you hurting yourself, is all," you said very softly and made sure the bandaid isn't pressing too hard on her finger. Her eyes had softened and a quivering unsure smile danced across her lips.

Now, away from the bonfire and the heat, away from Owen and Hannah, inside the dark greenhouse, Dani doesn't chew on her fingers. Instead, she has a vice grip on the wine bottle and she tilts her head back and swings, gulping cool wine thirstily.

She is beautiful. You've known this the first time you laid eyes on her, as you walked through the door and into the kitchen, on her very first day. But there is something about liking someone, knowing them, that heightens the senses and leaves you strangely attracted to the unnoticeable parts of the person's body. Dani's cheekbones, the curve of her chin, the slight way her ears sticking out, the space between her eyes, the angle of her shoulders – you could stare at her all day. You could listen to her voice, high pitched or raspy and murmuring, for the rest of your life.

You're favourite is her smile, though. The light plays off the cut of her jaw and the straight angle of her nose, making her smile soft and expansive and beautiful beyond measure, and you stare with such adoration you can only smile back, lips curbing crookedly up in complete happiness.

Dani doesn't smile now. She looks so sad and frightened you can only do your best to coax her out of this gloomy mood. She tells you about ghosts and dead boyfriends and the guilt she carries around, you are ready to fight every bloody spirit that's haunting her, bare-handed and human as you are.

You're just about to tell her you know exactly how it feels, this twisting of faiths, the idea someone else is steering your boat, steering your life, having control over details, when Dani reaches out and squeezes your shoulder through your coat and kiss you, hard at first and then more gently.

The things she told you are still swimming in your mind, so you have to check before it goes any further. You didn't bring her here just for this and you are ready to wait and to sit beside her and to listen to her, without touching, if that's what she needs, your own desires be damned.

"You sure?"

Dani tastes like iron and wine, not very pleasant a taste, but on her tongue, it tastes like heaven.

Dani crawls up on her knees, scooting closer so she can lean over you and deepen the kiss while pushing you back on the sofa. You don't object, just keep kissing her like she's necessary and needed, but most importantly, wanted.

Dani moves up and lays a kiss on your cheek before dragging her teeth along your pulse point, sucking on tiny marks, and you laugh, drawing a hiccuping gasp from her when you moan.

"Dani," you whisper and you have three weird words stranded on the tip of your tongue that you can't bring yourself to say, not when everything is heated and uncertain and Dani looks at you with something similar to understanding, her eyes dark, her lips parted, a quiet moan tumbling from deep inside her.

You'll do everything for her, you think. And then, a more frightening thought. You'll go back to prison for her.

(You know it will never happen, you know she will never ask, she'll never do anything to land you back in jail, but the point is that you're willing and you are scared and the thought of too small a space and iron bars around you makes it difficult to breath).

It's a terrifying, paralyzing realisation and you grip Dani with more force than needed. Her fingers are dancing across your skin and you are gone gone gone, you're gone for this American stranger you never meant to fall for.

"Is this okay?" Dani is slowing down, hands simply resting on your hips and you smile a quivering sort of smile at her.

"Yeah".

Small hands slip under your dress, dancing along bare skin. You suck in a breath, tense as you feel a small bud of panic bloom in your chest at the burning trace of her fingertips. Dani stops again and looks at you, checking up on you, and suddenly you're calm and content and the panic turns to eagerness, to lust, to complete desire to feel her hands on you, her fingers deep inside you. You buck your hips into her.

You kiss and Dani whimpers quietly into your mouth. Her shallow breaths are getting faster and you swallow hard. Breathing, at this point, is just a muscle memory for you, and Dani tangles one hand in your hair. You grip her shoulders, trying not to chew on her bottom lip.

Then her hand dips to where you need her the most and you shudder beneath her touch.

You're wet and Dani gasps with surprise grins despite herself knowing, like she had confirmed some great hypothesis that you want her, just as much as she wants you.

She slips a finger in and begins to make her way down, laying a kiss on your mouth before dragging wet sucking kisses along your neck, down your still dressed body. She pauses a moment, one finger curled inside you, to look up at you and you're glad it's dark because your face is burning.

"Gon' be smug all night there, Poppins?" you try to sound level headed but you mostly sound breathless.

Dani smiles a big smile before nuzzling her head into your abdomen and making a soft noise of happiness.

"Alright, then. O – oh," you let out an embarrassingly loud moan as Dani slips another finger in and drags kisses down until her lips rest above the apex of your legs. She looks up one more time, fingers still buried knuckle deep between your slippery folds and you shudder, the pressure is too much.

"Still okay?" and you've never seen anything more beautiful than Dani's head buried between your legs, eyes half-lidded, looking up to make sure you're comfortable.

"Yeah," you squeak and groan shamefully at the noise, cheeks flaring red. Dani laughs out loud and you cover your face with one arm and use the other to shove her head down into you, and she's still laughing and you shiver as the vibrations touch your clit.

"Dani…!"

Dani grins and licks a long stip through you, ending at the top to suck on your clit, and you hiccup, make an unintelligible noise you should be mortified by, and your fingers fly into blonde hair. You pull a little, as Dani catches the tiny nub between her teeth while thrusting her fingers inside. You push into her tongue, hips shaking uncontrollably into Dani's mouth.

She's rubbing, pumping her fingers, circles her tongue slowly through you. You whine, jerk your hips against her, trying to get her to go faster, trying to get her deeper inside. When she hits a particularly sensitive spot, just the way you like it, you whimper out a desperate cry.

"Dani!"

"Shh." She warns you before latching onto you again. She continues to move her fingers, back and forth and every move builds you higher. You moan a strangled sound, trying to keep quiet. You know, in the back of your head, that Owen and Hannah are right outside, less than a hundred strides away, so logically you should keep as quiet as possible. But Dani is slamming her fingers into you over and over, curling the roughly, and your hand that is buried in Dani's hair tightens and pulls when she hit a particular spot.

You don't know what you're moaning. There's a 'Jesus' and 'fuck' and a 'christ' and 'Dani' and 'Dani' and 'Dani' as you careen over the edge, heat rushing into your belly and your muscles clench. You tighten around Dani's fingers, your spine bends, and spasms as you come on her tongue, gasping for air.

It's been so long since your last orgasm that you have to take a moment to stare blankly at the greenhouse's ceiling, shuddering as Dani brushes against your sensitive clit while lapping up the wetness still surrounding your tender folds. You don't realise she isn't stopping until she shuffles back a little, dropping her head to replace her fingers with just her tongue, licking and sucking relentlessly until you're coming again, then again, both times with a long dragged out moan of her name.

"Christ," you pant, once Dani finished licking you through the aftershocks and you're breathing returned to semi-normal pace. "christ!"

You swallow hard and Dani is suddenly right above you, leaning in, a wide grin on her face, stupid and confident and happy, her eyes gleaming with mischievous arrogance.

"Good?" she asks with a bright tone and you pull her closer, wrapping your arms around her neck, nodding and mumbling what you hope are affirmations. You pull her into you, pressing her hard against your heaving chest, palms lying flat over her back, heartbeat still hammering like crazy.

The aching heat between your legs has subdued, after three orgasms in a row, and you are suddenly hyper-aware of Dani squirming in your lap. Your gaze flicks down to where she's sitting on your thighs, and you lean in and push your hands under her coat.

"What – " she murmurs into you before you reach and tug her down into a kiss.

It's a well-practiced move, by now, and a shiver goes through her body as you start moving your hands down her sides, behind her back, to her thighs. She's wearing pants, but it's easy enough to push her away just so you can pop open the top button and pull it down her rocking hips. Then you slide your fingers into her underwear and by the time you find her clit, Dani's hands are grasping the back of the sofa, on either side of your head, and her hips fall farther apart, her body is sinking into your hand.

You pump your hand, quietly, Dani's forehead pressed to yours, her eyes shut tight. She's desperately jerking against you, low moans tumbling from her lips. When you press slowly two fingers into her entrance, she pitches forward, resting her head against your shoulder.

"God, Jamie…" she moans as you plunge your fingers deeper, causing her back arch and her hips to grind harder. She lets a desperate chant of 'please don't stop don't stop don't stop' and she's canting her hips uncontrollably, your mouth pressed tight to her neck, and it takes a few more thrusts to send her over the edge.

Dani moans your name as her orgasm surges through her, her head falling from your shoulder to your chest, her hips continuing to roll down, and she collapses on top of you in a breathless heap.

You stroke her back, kiss the top of her head, the only sounds erupting the dark greenhouse are your heavy breathing and distant flames outside.

Dani kisses you then, quickly and enthusiastically and so unimaginably soft, that it takes you a moment to regain your composure.

This is good, you think as she nuzzles into you, still straddling your lap.

Here. Now.

Your heart leaps in your chest and Dani's lips rest on your skin, just below your throat.


	6. And She Teaches You How To Hold Her Throat In One Hand And Her Heart In The Other

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Canonly first time, only for Dani and Jamie it really isn't.

You're talking in a monotone, sitting hunched forward, elbows on your knees, your head is drawn down into the collar of your coat like you're trying to hide. And you do, because Dani is watching you with her big blue eyes, mouth pressed close, her undivided attention on you.

You're talking and you're not looking at her because you can't. You talk about hurtful things, about your too young of a mother and too rough of a father and how they were just kids, younger than you are now when they already had three hungry mouths to feed. You talk about dark spaces and dark desires and dark deeds you used to blame on them, used to hate them for, but you don't anymore. You talk about your brothers and how people called you names and how you didn't fit in any of the homes you were sent to, after the accident and before prison.

The slightly rising skin on your shoulder, a patch of smooth red scar, is tingling and you avoid scratching it, though there is nothing you want more than to dig your nails in it and forget.

You lean forward, rubbing your palms together, talking about things you have never talk about before, not in this sort of setting, anyway. Right beside you, Dani is nodding, opening her mouth and closing it, eyes filled with tears she does not shed. You see her, from the corner of your eye, staring at you with heated sad eyes.

The light is dim and it's raining and the world is shadows without any light allowed. Dani's skin looks pearly in the moon-light and you don't tell her your life story in order to drive her away, but you need her to understand because whatever it is going on between you, you can't lie.

You have to tell the truth – ugly and mean and heartbreaking as it is. You have to let her know what she's in for, should she choose to accept.

So you talk and you wonder what the bloody hell was that for. You look at Dani's thin face, the high stark ridge of her cheekbone, the dark hollow of her eyes, marveling and you think what the fuck was that, how could you let this liquid confession out, like a blabbering fool. Now she'd turn and walk away because you have exposed too much, like dropping an uncooked egg out of its shell into hot water, watching it spread too far, turning into a formless puddle.

But Dani is sitting still and watching you with her sky-blue eyes and she doesn't appear to be sensing any danger of any kind. She doesn't look like she's contemplating the right direction in which she should run. Instead, she clasps her hands and drinks every word you say.

When she finally gets up and comes closer to where you're standing watching her, you don't feel restless or stupid anymore. It has vanished and you're calm, serene as a stone, in control of this dark space of the grove.

Dani looks very old all of a sudden, not a wide-eyed child anymore, but a rather too old, old beyond consolation; a woman who has seen too much.

"Look, I know you're struggling. I can see that. But, Dani. You don't decide who lives and who dies. I'm sorry, but you don't".

When she puts her hand on your arm, your calmness shudders. The rain is stronger now, the wind whirling about.

You stand there, facing each other, without speaking. Then, as though someone had pulled a switch, you take a step forward just as Dani does the same and you find yourself kissing her, being kissed by her. Dani's mouth tastes like cigarettes and chocolate and wine and she wraps her arms around your neck. You tilt your head just so, slightly cocking it to the side, and you kiss her deeper. Dani brushes her tongue against your bottom lip, pulls back, then, breathless and flushed and a total mess kisses you again.

"You okay?" she murmurs against your lips, eyes searching your face. Your skin is prickling with anticipation and desire when she looks at you like this like you're something important.

"Hmm?"

"You okay?"

"I'm not drunk, Poppins. Would have told ya if I wanted to stop." And Dani smiles her beautiful smile that makes your heart beat faster. She takes your hand and leads you silently back to the dark house, where the lights have been turned off and there is no sign of Hannah or Owen or the kids.

Back in Dani's room, she unbuttons your jeans silently, pushing them down, kissing you with elevated pressure. Her arms lift around your shoulders and your hands tangle in her hair.

Your initial plan was to kiss her and walk her backwards to the bed, where you can both shed the rest of your clothes and spend the night exploring each other.

It seems as though Dani has a different plan. She's shedding her own coat and kneeling in front of you, between your legs, as she guides your legs apart. When she looks up at you, concern is written across her eyes and the room quiets.

"Poppins. I'm good. Honestly".

You tangle your hands in Dani's hair for leverage as you step out of your jeans. Dani makes quick work of her own pants and sneakers, and you're too eager to wait for her to undress you, so you pull your shirt off in one yank and pull her up to you so you can press yourself to her naked front.

You let your hands roam across all her bare skin suddenly on display. 

Dani reaches behind you to unclasp your bra and you hiss when her hands touch your ribs. It's a wanting sound and Dani moves to cover your mouth with hers and cold rainwater drips down Dani's nose.

Even soaking to the bone from your hurried stroll back from the garden, Dani is strikingly beautiful, naked and smelling like mowed grass and wet soil and flowers.

"You're wet." She says in a whisper and you chuckle. Dani makes her huffing laugh sound.

"That's not what I meant," she says and her face is bright red. "You're wet from the rain. You'll catch a cold".

"Don't want to be the one to break it to you, Poppins. But you're just as drenched as me." And you make a point of tugging lightly at her wet strands of blonde hair.

Dani smiles, baring her teeth. "We should warm-up".

"Got an idea how to do that," you answer in a murmur as you bury your nose in the space between her shoulder and her neck, kissing lightly her wet skin.

You've memorized this particular spot as something that makes her knees go weak and Dani melts in your arms, giggling and sighing and clutching at your back, gingerly trying to push you away and at the same time to keep you close.

She's leaning into you and you circle your arms around her like a child scared of the dark.

"You're so beautiful." You murmur without thinking and Dani's breath hitches.

Relief floods your body when Dani lifts her head and searches your mouth and you nudge her slightly towards the bed, directing her sluggish movement until you sprawl on the covers.

"It's a good idea, but I was thinking maybe a shower – " she starts saying and you cut her off by pushing your hands into golden blonde locks and tugging lightly.

Dani tends to babble even in the middle of this particular activity, speaking nonsensical words to no-one in particular. You laugh quietly because she's very very cute and your heart swells in your chest to the sound of her voice, high-pitched and on the verge of a panic attack.

"Close your eyes," you demand softly as Dani continues talking and now she stops, following the order as you tip her head back and kiss her exposed throat. Dani doesn't open her eyes as you press close, thumbs tracing small circles into her skin.

"Jamie…"

You look down at the woman beneath you and push a wet strand of light hair back from her eyes, tucking it behind her ear before leaning in and kissing her.

Dani's back is against the mattress and it's easier this way, to press your lips down to her's, creep your hands to her breasts, have her kiss you back without question, your tongue teasing the inside of her mouth.

Dani slips her hands up your body, fingers pinching lightly your nipple and you gasp into her mouth unbendingly. Dani hitches up her leg, so you could press down on her thigh and grind your bodies together. Your hips meet because you're too busy with kissing her to realise what she's doing and you buck, searching for where the friction hits just right.

Dani's teeth graze your throat. She leaves wet sucking kisses on your skin, tracing your collarbone, craning her neck, pushing into you more and more and you can hear yourself babbling now without quite understanding your own rush of words.

(Something about Dani and Fuck and Jesus and Dani).

Dani's mouth edges up to your ear, kissing your lobe. She murmurs something in her strange biting accent, a little drawling and a little hard but something you find very soothing already. Then her fingers find the inside of your thigh, dive in between your legs and she circles two fingers around your clit, rubbing and pressing before thrusting two digits inside you.

"God!" you moan into her skin, panting, grinding yourself down on her hand. "Oh, fuck!"

Dani curls her fingers just right and you push closer, the air whooshes out of your chest.

You fist your hands in Dani's hair at a particularly hard thrust, before using the leverage of your position to pull her head back so you can kiss her and Dani tastes amazing and dirty and you don't really register her taste because the pressure of Dani is everywhere, all over you, and she's pushing you harder and harder, and you're too far gone to read too much into the way her gaze lingers on your face.

Dani's moving her fingers against you, as you straddle her. you groan loudly into her mouth, her free hand slips into your hair, tugging lightly, and you moan. She gets the message and moves her hand quicker, harder until you topple over the edge, heat rushing to your stomach, your muscles clench around her and you coat her palm in sticky liquid.

Your body slouches down and you rest your forehead on Dani's, noses bumping together, matching grins tugging wildly at your lips. It's dark in the room but you see her eyes clearly, mere inches from yours, shining with desire and accomplishment and something you're not going to think about tonight.

She has both her arms around you and you're exhausted, but you also want to touch her.

You kiss the end of her nose and your hands trail down, massaging her breasts. You could spend ages just lavishing attention at Dani's breasts and nothing else, but Dani is impatient tonight. She reaches to your hand, pulling it off her breast and down to between her legs, sliding your joined fingers down her stomach with a murmured 'I want you inside me'.

Dani's blue eyes are open and she's looking at you in the dark. She smiles when your fingers tease tiny curls. You smooth your hand down, sweet and slow and Dani is glaring now.

You drop your head to her collarbone, unable to maintain eye contact now and you quickly begin to rub her between the legs, slow and hard, just the way she likes it.

Dani's legs fall open, her jaw slacks and she makes a tiny sound, mewing and crying and gasping in your ear. You gather her wetness on your fingers, unbelievably hot and slick, and smear it through her, coating her clit in shining liquid.

"C'mon, Poppins," you tell her in a hoars whisper. "C'mon".

"Ah," she answers. "I – I'm… Jamie – "

And you lift your head and smile into her shocked face, watching a tiny change of expressions as she clamps down on your fingers, faster than usual, her body goes rigid and then she shivers, shaking as you guide her through the high.

You laugh, shocked and delighted and she yanks you down into a bruising kiss, swallowing your smile with hungry lips.

Through the haze of lust, it downs on your that you probably shouldn't have all these feelings swimming in your chest. It's one thing to enjoy her company, be friends with Dani Clayton, have her quick and messy in hidden corners, watch her blush when you catch her staring. It's entirely another thing watching the varying expressions of pleasure flickering across her face. It's another thing entirely watch her moan and whimper and squirm and feel like nothing exists outside of Dani. Dani rocking her hips down to meet your fingers, Dani tightening slightly around you when you curl your fingers just right, Dani coming with a long drawn moan and squeezed eyes.

You try to distract yourself from these thoughts, try to focus on Dani's heavy breathing and the way her hands slide all over you. you gasp into her mouth but her fingers are not enough to take your mind of the building feeling right under your heart.

Dani pulls the blanket under her and up to cover both of you. you roll over to face away, looking at her feels like too much right now, and it terrified you that you think you know exactly why, know exactly what is blooming in your chest, getting out of control.

Then a second later, you feel Dani press her front against your back. Her arm wraps around your waist and she presses a soft kiss to the back of your neck.

"Goodnight," she mumbles into your hair, snuggling closer.

"G'night, Poppins." You fall asleep trying not to think how right it feels to be in her arms.

In the mornings she's gone and you wake up tangled in covers, naked and aching all over. The sheets are pressed against you, warm and soft and you don't want to leave yet. What you want is to close your eyes and will Dani back to bed.

You end up falling asleep, because the next thing you know is a hand pressing softly to your cheek, fingers brushing messy curls from your eyes. You blink up at Dani's beaming face. She's wearing a dark pink sweater and her hair is brushed.

"Hi," she says softly.

You shift, rolling over to sprawl on your back over the rest of the bed, and Dani's hand is pinning the covers down when she leans and kisses you quickly on the lips. Her mouth is hot and her eyelashes flutter softly against her cheek. Her blonde hair is a stark contrast against the darkness of her sweater and she nuzzles into you, making happy sounds.

(Fuck, you think. Fuck, Jamie. How did you let it happen?)

You wrap your arms around her neck and you're in love with her. you're in love with her.

(What the bloody hell are you gonna do?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for sticking around for this one!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!
> 
> English is not my first language, and also I'm rocking ADHD like a MF so please excuse any and every misspellings, mistakes, and other Grammarly atrocities.  
> Also,  
> Come chat with me @ love-jesus-but-i-drink-a-little.tumblr.com


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